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Participants:

Date:

2011.08.02

Location:

EW - Bathing Caverns

Synopsis:

Maura tries to get D'lan to open up as well as making an announcement that changes things between them.

Rating:

PG13

Logger:

D'lan

Today it was sweeps, and not drills, which is why it’s well past the dinner hour when the tired group of riders converge on the baths to soak out the tension of looking for burrows and scrub away the rest of the day. Maura remains long after most of them have gone though, preferring the steam of hot springs to the crowd of the bar. And when it’s finally a little more quiet sinks further down into the water as near to serenity as anyone’s going to get at Eastern. The trickle and splash of water from the larger pool is even calming, so she closes her eyes for juuuust a moment. Those are always the fateful ones aren’t they?

D’lan was not one of that group of riders either flying sweeps or that had converged on the bathing caverns en masse and in fact is only on his way in as they’re on their way out. Tired and covered in black ash and dust the expression he wears is grim to the point that the brownrider usually so observant doesn’t immediately notice the presence of another in the quietened bathing caverns. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mutters as if holding conversation with an invisible party while yanking boots, socks, trousers and shirt off and tossing them aside. It just so happens that the pool he chooses to sink into is the one currently occupied by one steam obscured, Maura.

People are always talking to invisible parties, especially when they have pain in the ass lifemates. It’s a habit that Maura knows quite well. So when the one lone voice speaks up, followed only by enough clothing removal sounds to account for one person – her eyes flutter open, only to see a steam obscured form slide into the water across from her. She recognizes the voice however, muttered though it may be. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you might have picked the wrong pool to climb into.” The words are spoken quietly, though there’s an unseen smile behind them. “What’s Wyncrath bothering you about?”

Just about to lean his head back against the side of the bathing pool and give into the bliss of the warm water, D’lan jerks it right back up again at that comment delivered in familiar voice. “Maura, you sneaky little wench,” the grin heard in his tone turned instantly husky as he slides over closer. “Wyn?” a blasé note immediately strikes through as he lifts a hand and flicks the matter away with the droplets that scatter with the action, “You know him. Trying to figure fifteen different ways of getting out of drills tomorrow.” The brownrider’s tone turning distracted toward the end as his hooded gaze drifts over what can be seen of Maura above the water.

“Sneaky!?” Nice how it’s the sneaky part that Maura objects to, right? Her tone is immediately indignant, and followed by a light splash of water flicked the brownrider’s way. “I /was/ here first.” She points out, following his path through the water with a suspicious gaze. “Mmm. Yeah, I know him.” Is agreed, cheerfully almost. “And I’m pretty sure your response to him trying to figure out how to get out of drills isn’t by saying you don’t want to talk about it. Not with –that- tone of voice.” Unfortunately for D’lan there isn’t a whole lot of her to be seen above the water right now, though it can be noted that she is absolutely watching him gaze at her . “You’ll have to come up with a better brush-off then that one.”

That was obviously just the sort of reaction D’lan was expecting for he throws his hands up as shield against the water flicked at him, mouth creasing around a grin. “You waited for me,” he teases over her having been there first his baritone taking on that particular pitch and rumble that by now, Maura should be familiar with. Another slow step toward her and the brownrider continues to close the gap between them like a lazy feline stalking its prey. One corner of his mouth slinks up into a smirk, “What makes you think I’m brushing you off?” And there if possible, he’ll try reaching for her, hands seeking out her waist beneath the water, “Maybe I just feel it’s none of his business how I plan to relax for the evening, hmm?” And there’s that invitational purr.

“Mmm. Because I have mind powers and know where you’ll be and when you’ll be there, right?” Maura. Amused. It’s perhaps fortunate that he can’t hear her internal groan of dismay when she does, in fact, recognize that pitch of voice. He’s take the sound an /entirely/ different way. “You’re brushing me off by not addressing the issue.” She’s never had a problem with her personal space being invaded, it’s just what he does once there that makes her slip out of the way; gliding just enough to the side that he misses in his effort to grab her by the waist. “You didn’t have any plans to try and seduce me when you got here, because you had no idea that I /was/ here. So that certainly isn’t it. “ is pointed out in a shrewd tone. “You know you can talk to me.” She prompts, trying her best to distract him from his intentions so she doesn’t *have* to be more direct about it.

“Mmhm,” D’lan agrees on her having powers to predict his whereabouts, “Or you had Rikath check in with Wyn,” cue the cocky grin in acknowledgement of his own arrogance there. Interest deepens and blue eyes spark in response to that almost inaudible groan, mouth pulling around a knowing line. “There’s an issue?” he asks distractedly and then frowns lightly as she evades his attempt at capturing her. It doesn’t last long for a crooked grin appears when he divines the evasion as having been Maura tempting him into a game of hard-to-get and its exactly the kind of game that an alpha male such as he revels in. He doesn’t however follow after her quite yet. Instead a brow lifts upward and he lets out a puff of air in a sigh when she pounces on the flaws in his attempt to side-step the comment he’d made aloud to his brown. “I can think of far better ways to communicate that involve the use of lips and tongue than talking.” Yeah, there he goes again using innuendo to deliberately avoid the unspoken subject as once again, D’lan stalks after her.

Cue mental facepalm. Of course, Rikath thinks this is *hilarious*. The mental peals of laughter that the bluerider is being subjected to right now are overwhelmingly along the lines of ‘hahahahaha this one is all YOUR fault not mine!’. Maura is distinctly displeased at D’lan’s inability to open up even a little itty tiny bit, though also not surprised. “Oh, I /know/ you can think of… right. Yes, I’m well aware of that.” Is agreed, before she can stop herself from saying it. Ahem. A slip of the tongue that brings a flush to her face because she knows he will use the words to his advantage. Which is why she holds up her hand to stop him in his stalking. “D’lan. I can’t. You’re at least a few weeks too late to be trying this as your way of getting out of actually talking. We both know I would’ve let you get away with it before, but… not now.” The young woman admits, finally. “I’m… uhm. Involved with someone.”

Its probably just as well as that the mental link only extends between dragon and rider and doesn’t transmit to others for one can be sure that D’lan would likely not be in the least bit pleased by the humour Rikath is currently finding in the situation at hand. As it is he remains blissfully unaware turning a wickedly cast grin out to Maura in response to the blush that touches her cheeks when she figures out what he’d been alluding to, letting her displeasure for his being tight-lipped slide right on by.

Tossing aside the accusation on his evasion tactics, it’s what the bluerider says next that draws him up short for a moment and has the brownrider narrowing a slightly bemused look onto her as the information sinks in. It’s brief for soon there’s a covering smile brought to bear. “Yeah? Someone I know?” This asked as D’lan moves passed Maura and reaches for a pouch of sweetsand, as nonchalant as if she’d just announced they’d be serving oatmeal again for breakfast.

Yeah, good thing. Cause Rikath is cackling and snorting even /more/ now that Maura’s realized she has no choice but to bring it all out in the open. Not like she’s been trying to hide the fact, but this is just a /terrible/ way to have to discuss something of this nature. And her frustration at how this has all come up is obvious when she relaxes back against the lip of the pool. “D’lan, don’t use that as a way not to answer the question. You have to trust someone to talk to eventually. Even if it’s not me.” Her eyes follow him moving past her, and the temptation is there to reach for his arm now that he’s not busy trying to have a nice romp in the water.

Finally, though, she answers the question he posed. “Yes, it’s someone you know.” And seeing no point behind or reason to keep the name some big secret when it will all become obvious anyway, adds. “It’s Ch’rii.” You know, someone even worse about keeping tight lipped then he is.

If D’lan is aware of her frustration or in any way ruffled by the news, he makes no show of it putting his focus instead on working up a good lather on short dark brown hair. He’s silent as he does so, back slightly turned to Maura. Only once he’s ducked under the water and come up again, hands palming the water from his face does he lock a closed look onto the bluerider and then states low, “Trust is harder to give the older you get.” And the more time you’ve had to add to the burden of guilt carried but that of course gets left unsaid. Wading toward shallower water until its only hip deep he sets to soaping up well muscled torso and arms, flicking a faintly amused look Maura’s way. “Ch’rii? That young pup?” Pretence at being disparaging made before a smile appears. “So long as he makes you happy, Lovely,” spoken with genuine warmth, all the flirtation and seductive moves of earlier nowp ma gone.

“One of these days you’re not going to be able to hold it in any longer.” Maura is in no way fooled by that closed expression. The foolishness of youth prompting her to push. Again. “We all have our secrets, but this one just eats at you. I never see you really happy anymore.” And being the type of person she is, that just makes her sad. So he gets a look - one he’ll probably ignore - and then she subsides, gliding back to her original spot where she’s had a towel rolled up to use as a kind of pillow.

There’s a smirk for his attempt at disparagement, a near empty pouch of soapsand lifted up and eyed like she’s going to throw it at him for the comment at first. “He does.” Is all she says initially, slipping then into an attempt at levity. “He completely scandalized my sister; you’ll appreciate this story, I’m sure.” Is begun, as many tales are. “She was being a right bitch when we came to get her, and when I told her I had a wingmate there with me to help… she yelled after me that she bet I was sleeping with him and that’s why he was helping.” There’s a pause there, and Maura scrubs at her face in annoyance at the assumption. “I told her it was none of her business. But Rii… he decided to answer her literally, and told her that indeed we had slept together. On his dragon. He just didn’t specify that he /just/ meant sleep. So now half of Igen and nearly all of Eastern thinks…”

Hands fall to his sides and D’lan’s lips purse about a frown before lifting his chin and slanting a look down at Maura as she settles back into place again. “At which time you’ll be free to wave the finger of self-righteous vindication in my face,” he states flatly on his silence perhaps becoming his downfall at some point. As to his state of happiness or lack thereof a rueful smile quirks out, “You made me happy.” As do all those others that he’s able to coax into partaking of coital gymnastics with him especially if it provides distraction from darker thoughts.

Turning his back now (strange how that need to strut his stuff has suddenly diminished with the announcement of there being another on scene) D’lan works on soaping up his nether regions, a guffaw of laughter slicing through the tension that had built for the story told. A grin is sent back over his shoulder, “I’m impressed.” And truly he does look to be as sinking down into the water he makes his way back over to where Maura is lounging.

Silent a moment the big brownrider’s gaze drifts over her face and then both hands lift to cup gently to either side of it. Thumbs caress a gentle touch and without warning lips are next to follow in what is meant to be taken as fond farewell. “Be happy with him, Little One,” the words given with a small smile. And then Maura is released and he’s wading away back toward the shallow end of the pool, back to dry clothing, back to his weyr and yet another in a long string of sleepless nights that is the life of an insomniac.